Malina had not thought it possible to feel this way.

Her mother’s death was excruciating, a pain that rolled through her and snatched her breath away. Shae was Malina’s rock, her safe haven and comfort, and in saving Malina’s life, her’s had been taken. The sun drenched child had not before felt the absence of another in such a way, and it was all she could do to get through each day.

Father had loaned his strength in abundance, taking the mantle of rock and haven with steadfast determination. She could not understand why Tiresias had been taken from them, and sought comfort with her remaining siblings and her father. Caspian had buried Shae with his mother and sister, tucked deep into the heart of the pack they had loved. One day, he told her, he would be buried there, and so would she if she did wish it. Malina, truth be told, spent more time than she possibly should at the gravesite. It made her feel close to her mother, and to those who had gone before her. Malina was beginning to decide who she wanted to be as she aged, and being her and in silence brought her peace and strengthened her decisions. She was to be a warrior, a politician, someone that her ancestors would have been proud of. Malina would honor her mother’s memory by preventing future wars - through diplomacy or through death, she would ensure that senseless death could be prevented.

Today, though, the girl was not taking on the world. Instead she was resting, basking on a sun warmed stone. Dainty muzzle rested atop her feet, slow blinking chocolate eyes peering into the forest surrounding her.